Sevilin

[Tamarind]

Description
Tall and well-muscled the stranger still moves with graceful ease. Long black hair loosely tied into a pony-tail partially obscures a youthful face in which boyish good looks contrast with a serious yellow-eyed gaze. A fleeting glimpse of sadness is quickly replaced by a smile as the hawk perched on his shoulder pecks him lightly, reminding him he is not alone.


Human, Age 20
6'3", 150lbs

Ranger 2 / Sorceror 1

Experience: 3647 (6000 for next level)

Strength17+3
Dexterity 17 +3
Constitution 13 +1
Intelligence 12 +1
Wisdom 6 -2
Charisma 15 +2

Initiative: +3 (Dex)
Base Move: 30ft
Hit Points: 21
Armour Class:16 / 17 if Two Weapon fighting
Flatfooted 13 / 14
Touch 13 / 14

Base Attack: +2
(+5 melee, +5 ranged)
+6 MW Longsword (1d8+3 damage, crit. 19-20/x2) [weapon of choice]

+4 MW Longsword, +3 Shortsword (1d6+3, crit. 19-20/x2 if using both at once)

+5 Comp. Longbow (1d8+2 damage, crit 20/x3, range inc. 110')


Saves
Fortitude +3
(+1 Con, +2 class)

Reflex +5
(+3 Dex, +2 class)

Will 0
(-2 Wis, +2 class)

+2 vs Sleep, Paralysis and energy of type Fire (Draconic Heritage)


Skills
Concentration 6
(5 +1 Con)

Climb 4
(1 +3 Str)

Hide 7
(4 +3 Dex)

Intimidate 5
(3 +2 Cha)

Jump 4
(1 +3 Str)

Know. Geography 3
(2 +1 Int)

Know. Nature 3
(2 +1 Int)

Know.Arcana 2
(1 +1 Int)

Listen 0 or 2 with Re nearby
(2 -2 Wis)

Move Silently 7
(4 +3 Dex)

Ride 4
(3 +3 Dex)

Search 3
(2 +1 Int)

Spellcraft 3
(2 +1 Int)

Spot 3 or 5 with Re nearby
(2 -2 Wis + 3 Familiar)

Survival 4
(6 -2 Wis)

Use Rope 4
(1 +3 Dex)


Languages
Abyssal (native)
Draconic (innate (Int))
Kinth (bought as cross-class)

Spells
Cantrips (5)
Acid Splash [V,S] - 1d3 acid damage to target (ranged touch attack). Range 25ft + 5ft/2 levels.
Dancing Lights [V,S] - Multiple illusory lights under caster's control.
Detect Magic [V,S] - 60ft cone, up to 1 min/level (concentration required).
Disrupt Undead [V,S] - Ray of positive energy 1d6 Damage to undead target (ranged touch attack).
Read Magic [V,S,F - clear crystal]

Level 1 (4)
Shield [V,S] - +4 Shield AC, negates Magic Missiles. Duration 1 min/level.
Fist of Stone [V,S,M - stone inscribed with stylized fist] - +6 Enh.to Str, Slam attack. Dur. 1 min.

Feats / Abilities
Draconic Heritage (Red Dragon)
Draconic Breath
Track
Favoured Enemy (Undead) +2
Wild Empathy
Call Familiar (Hawk – Re)
Alertness (from Re, gives +2 to Spot and Listen when he’s nearby)
Two Weapon Combat (Ranger Combat Style)
Two Weapon Defence (+1 to AC from off hand weapon)

Load
Light up to 86lbs
Medium 87- 173lbs
Heavy 174 – 260lbs

[Tamarind]

Item (Weight)

Total 85 - Light load

Funds: 16gp, 7sp

Worn / Carried on Person (60)
Studded Leather Armour (20)

Buckler (5)

Masterwork Longsword (4) (left hip)

Shortsword (2) (right hip)

Composite Longbow [+2 Strength] (3) (back)

60 Arrows (10) (back)

Heavy flail (10) (right hip)

Daggers (1 in each boot and 1 in belt) (3)

Explorer’s Outfit (-)

Belt Pouch (-)
....Whetstone (-)
....Gold & Silver [Gold – 71; Silver - 4]
....Potion of Cure Light Wounds (1)

Spell Component Pouch (2)


Pack (25)
Backpack (2)

....Bedroll (5)

....Fish hooks - 5 (-)

....Flint/Steel (-)

....Bullseye Lantern (3)

....Mirror (1)

....Oil - 2 pints (2)

....Clay pitcher (1)

....Rations - 2 days (2)

....50’ Silk Rope (5)

....Sewing needle (-)

....Waterskin (4)

[Tamarind]

Sevilin’s earliest memory is of sawdust and smoke, the smells, clear and vivid often give him a moment’s pause even now – particularly if the light is low as at dusk or predawn. He has been told that he was found wrapped in a simple cloth shroud on the woodpile of the villager’s protector, a woodsman by the name of Serban.



Sevilin was actually found by a young boy, Petru, and initially brought to the village elders…they saw Sevilin’s yellow eyes and – perhaps minded by memories of the dark forces thrown off by their fathers and grandfathers - declared the child cursed, possessed by an evil force. They had all but decided to put him out in the forest when Serban - just then returned from his hunting trip - stormed in and pausing only to castigate the elders for their callousness and superstitious ways seized the young babe up in his arms and marched out, Serban formally adopted the child as his own, the elders disapproved but were loathe to move against the popular warrior – at least directly.



Serban named the young boy Sevilin after his grandfather, a great hero of the uprising. Sevilin at first enjoyed himself, playing with the dogs and cats that ran in the streets and the few other children around his age but soon he began to sense that something was amiss, wherever he went there were whispers and sidelong glances…then the other children would no longer include him in their games. No-one would speak it to Serban’s face but many, swayed by the words of the elders, thought the young Sevilin to be Evil – a dark spy in their midst. His yellow eyes were seen as clear proof of these demonic origins. Serban railed against the Elders and their supporters but could not stop them spreading their views, in the end he withdrew from the community, building a new cabin in the woods and returning to the village only infrequently. Despite these changes with Sevilin he was always kind and caring, insisting that the villagers were only misguided bigots – idiots and gossips, to be ignored. But a shadow of doubt had been sown in the young boy’s mind… how could they all be wrong?



When as he grew to puberty unusual things began happening around him this was seen as undeniable evidence – clear sign of the dark forces within him asserting themselves. Serban again scoffed at them, saying it was nothing but the wild magic, the gift of Bards and Sorcerors, something to be encouraged, not reviled - but by now village opinion was firmly against the young teenager and only Serban’s long service and undeniable usefulness kept them from acting out of hand to cast them both out. With the onset of these powers came dark dreams of death, destruction and fire – whole villages razed, people burned, battlefields laid waste…the carnage was varied and unrelenting. He began to sleep less and less and his temper and patience suffered because of it, he became prone to temper and fits of violence – once even striking Serban when he corrected his woodlore…that was when he realised he had to control himself or next time he could really hurt someone. And what of it? Why care about them – they hate and fear you – why not give them something to fear!



That winter Serban brought a friend, a half-elf named Mercuri, to visit their cabin, He took the tormented boy under his wing and taught him how to channel the power that was emerging within him – helped him learn how to shape and control the wild energies so that they could be called at will, rather than surging forth at random. Learning to focus his new powers gave him back a measure of control and helped him keep his temper in check – with the wild magic at bay he seemed less prone to the violent outbursts than before…perhaps there was hope for him after all, maybe Serban was right and it was just a part of coming to terms with the magic within him…



In the summer Mercuri left to continue his travels west to the Edge Desert, Sevilin was sad to see him go– the extravagant halfelf had given him back his life and he would always be in his debt, he had also brought a refreshing cheer to the cabin that had been increasingly dour of late…even after he had gone something of his infectious laughter seemed to linger, lightening the daily stresses and improving the two men’s mood. So things continued in happier vein until the autumn, when everything changed…



He had been returning from the deep woods, the sun had set and long shadows shrouded the trail ahead of him, not that it mattered – even with his lack of talent for woodlore he could have found his way back to the cabin blindfolded by now. Lost in thought at first he didn’t pay heed to the occasional sound carried on the wind, until a single piercing cry startled him from his reverie – a cold dread swept over him and he sprinted for the cabin, dropping the deer that straddled his shoulders and sweeping his sword clear in one fluid motion as he ran towards the sounds.



Bursting from the forest he came upon a scene out of his nightmares – the village was in flames, thick smoke writhing in the streets lit by the baleful light of the fires….as he watched in horror twisted shapes emerged from the smoke to claw at the terrified villagers, the Undead had returned to Lyshaven. He watched, paralysed, as a fanged gibbering form scuttled from a burning building towards a young woman…Anya…he thought distractedly…she turned and ran towards him but not quite quick enough – the creature caught her just as she drew near, he watched as from a distance as claws tore into her shoulder, hot blood sprayed forth into his face as she fell forward…the taste was strangely familiar…blood and smoke, fire and destruction…



The twisted form reared up in front of him, foul breath assaulting his nostrils as it slashed filthy claws at his face, in a blur of motion his sword swept up, smashing into the creature with enough force to send it scything through the air into the burning hut. A visceral thrill swept through him and he surged forward, yellow eyes darting back and forth as he sought more of the foul creatures…



Lurching, shambling forms fell before him as he pressed forward until the village square loomed ahead. Through a momentary clearing in the smoke he saw a tall white-haired man surrounded by clawing shapes – Serban! As he charged forward he knew it was too late – a dark form coalesced out of the smoke behind the aged warrior, he span but too slowly – the silver blade just too late to block the gleaming claws that tore across his throat…



“No!!!” the cry that burst forth from his lips was more roar than speech, an inhuman sound. As Serban’s bloody body fell to the ground reason fled as raw power responded to his pain, as if a floodgate had opened the energies swept through him, searing white-hot hatred bathing the cursed forms, burning them to ash. The sneering shadow screamed in agony as flames roiled around it, claws flayed his skin but nothing could halt the searing flames, he saw the shadowy form twist and writhe as the inferno consumed it then the last shreds of reason fled and all was blackness…



He awoke to the smell of smoke, his head was pounding and his throat was parched…he was lying in the wreckage of the town square, smoke rising lazily from the charred remains of buildings all around and everywhere bodies some human, some…not. Slowly he pushed himself to his feet, pain searing across his chest.



“There he is! The bastard’s still alive! You brought them here! You! This is your fault you cursed half-breed - you brought them here! You burned our village and killed noble Serban, not enough that you fooled him all these years – you had to kill him too! You heartless monster! I hope you burn in Hell!”



The screaming voice cut into him, rocking him backwards – a skinny man in tattered bloodstained clothes had staggerd from a ruin and stood, swaying on his feet as he shook his fist at Sevilin,



“That’s….that’s not true…I tried to save him….”



The village had been burning when he got there…hadn’t it? Surely he hadn’t caused the fire…



He shook his head, desperate to deny the horror…before him lay Serban, his body twisted and charred but still recognisable by his beautiful sword…



You killed him! He could have lived but you charred him to a cinder – you’re a monster!



“No!! No!!!! IT’S NOT TRUE!!!”



Roaring denial he charged at the screaming man, arms flailing wildly, eyes blazing, blood flowing down his chest. Seizing the skinny man by the shoulders he lifted him into the air and shook him, screaming into his face,



“Lies! You’re lying! Aren’t you???! Admit it!!! You’ve always hated me – ever since I can remember! It’s all lies! I’M NOT A MONSTER!!!”



Dimly he realised the man had stopped shouting, stopped moving at all….his head hung at an odd angle, eyes staring vacantly…



“No…oh no….what have I done?? Serban, what I have done???”



Tears flowed down his face, mingling with the blood as he fell to his knees in the ash and wept…





***************************************



A time later he awoke, darkness had fallen and a pale moon hung above the village casting a silvery light over the desolate scene.



The rage had gone, instead he felt strangely numb, empty. Walking back to the centre of the square he stooped and picked up the beautiful sword, the fine leather scabbard was gone so he sheathed it in his own. Gently he lifted the lifeless body and walked slowly from the village, eyes fixed on the path ahead. He buried Serban in the clearing he had loved, standing over the grave of his only friend he remembered all the good times – the joy of exploring the forest for the first time, learning to use the sword and the bow, Serban’s patient efforts to drum woodlore into his ungifted pupil…standing there he realised what he should do,



“I will help people –like you taught me too. I will master this rage within me and turn my efforts to good – atone for what I have done. I won’t fail you again old friend – I promise.”



Gathering a few possessions from the cabin he closed and tied the cabin door and set off into the forest



I should leave Lyshaven, word will spread soon enough and then they’ll hunt me down,,,



After a time he reached a decision, covering his trail as Serban had shown him he headed south east towards the city states – rumour had it the Guilds were hiring mercenaries, perhaps he could make a place for himself there…

[Tamarind]

Re

Red-shouldered hawk
Speed: 10ft on ground, 60ft flying (average maneuverability)

Str 6 -2
Dex 17 +3
Con 10 +0
Int 6 -2
Wis 14 +2
Cha 6 -2

Initiative: +3 (Dex)

Hit Dice 2
HitPoints: 7 (half of Sevilin's 13)
Base Attack: +0 / grapple -10
Attack: Talons+5 melee (1d4-2 damage)
Armour Class: 18 (+2 size, +3 Dex, +3 natural)
Flatfooted: 15
Touch:15

Saves
Fort: +2
Ref: +5
Will: +2

Feats & Abilities
Low-light vision
Weapon Finesse
Improved Evasion
Share Spells (if within 5ft)
Empathic Link

Skills
Concentration 5
(5 +0 Con)

Climb -1
(1 -2 Str)

Hide 6
(3 +3 Dex)

Intimidate 1
(3 -2 Cha)

Jump -1
(1 -2 Str)

Know. Geography 0
(2 -2 Int)

Know. Nature 0
(2 -2 Int)

Know.Arcana 1
(1 -2 Int)

Listen 4
(2 +2 Wis)

Move Silently 6
(3 +3 Dex)

Ride 4
(3 +3 Dex)

Search -1
(1 -2 Int)

Spellcraft 0
(2 -2 Int)

Spot 14
(4 +2 Wis + 8 Racial)

Survival 6
(4 +2 Wis)

Use Rope 4
(1 +3 Dex)